


A Song Unsung

by FeelTheCold



Category: American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-27
Updated: 2013-12-27
Packaged: 2018-01-06 07:58:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1104372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeelTheCold/pseuds/FeelTheCold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yet another perspective of Fiona and Cordelia's relationship. Can the path to healing be taken, or is the damage too great? Rated M for language and future violence. Review, review, review!</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Song Unsung

**Author's note: Lately, I have been captivated by the relationship of Cordelia and Fiona. There's just something about these two characters that I can't rid myself of, and this definitely isn't a complaint. This story has sat on the backburner for a few weeks. I originally had the idea after 'The Axeman Cometh' aired, but felt that it needed some improvements and tweaked it a bit. This story is near and dear to my heart, and I really intend on delving deeper into their relationship-past, present and future.**

**I would appreicate your reviews, and whether or not you think I should continue with this story!**

**~oOoOoOo~**

It was that time of day again.

Each day, Cordelia set aside a period of time where she could just be by herself, in her own company, without any interruptions from the girls, Fiona, or Myrtle. As appreciative and grateful as she was to have such an incredible and affectionate aunt as Myrtle, she was exhausted. Usually, someone would come in to check on Cordelia in the afternoon, followed by a visitation in the evening. Most days, she would sit alone, reflecting on the life she'd lead, and the mistakes that she had made.

It was unlike Cordelia to dwell on the past as she was doing now. Some things could never be forgiven, such as Fiona, her negligent mother, dumping her off at the doorstep of Miss Robichaux's Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies, but Cordelia didn't usually fret this much over the past. Since the day of her arrival at the Academy, she had come to terms with the truth. She was well aware that Fiona was a complex individual, incapable of showing any compassion to the people that surrounded her; people that were trying to care about Fiona.

It sounded quite strange when it was put like that, didn't it? One didn't have to try to care about another, it just happened... With Fiona, this was not the case. Not with her three husbands, not with Cordelia.

You either loved Fiona, or you hated her. There was no between. Caring about Fiona was like treading a tightrope between aloof interest, and fiery passion. She was impossible to live with, and nearly impossible to live with out.

As much as Cordelia hated to admit to it, she needed Fiona. Every girl living under the Academy's roof needed Fiona, whether there was a new Supreme rising or not. When the time came, the coven would deal with that, but for now, Fiona was there only hope at survival.

A coven of witches could only get so far without the aid of their Supreme.

Each day, Cordelia swallowed her pride, and tried to get along with her mother. It wasn't an easy task. In fact, it was probably the most difficult task Cordelia had suffered through this far, but she continuously reminded herself of one thing-that she was doing this for the girls, the girls that she was responsible for. Their parents had trusted Cordelia enough to allow her to take their daughters into her charge, and if there was one thing that Cordelia despised more than disappointment, it was failure. Cordelia was competitive, but fiercely protective when it came to the people she loved, and she would be damned if she would allow every session, each lesson she'd gone through day after day, become insignificant. These girls were striving to become keen witches of the clan. Cordelia couldn't bear the thought of letting their hard work, sweat and tears go to waste.

A knock on Cordelia's bedroom door had startled her, drawing her attention away from her thoughts. It was so humiliating for her to have to ask who was behind that door, but she was blind. She couldn't see a thing, and her other four senses were beginning to fail her-contrary to what her doctor predicted.

Cordelia remembered that day like no other, the day she awoke from her slumber. She remembered inhaling the scent of death, and rot. The hospital emitted fumes of urine and feces, amongst other things. It was one of her most unpleasant memories.

When Cordelia came to consciousness that day, and opened her eyes, she expected to be greeted by the face of a smiling doctor, perhaps a nurse that was standing by to check her vital signs. Instead, she was greeted by a grim voice, and a darkness that threatened to swallow her very soul.

"...I'm sorry to inform you that you were blinded by the attack," the stranger spoke.

Those were the only words that she had heard. Blind? That couldn't be. The last thing she remembered was drinking with Fiona at a bar, playing a juvenile game out of her own drunken stupor. And then...

Cordelia remembered crying. It couldn't have even be classified as crying. She was sobbing. Her entire body was shaking, her limbs no longer under her control. She recognized the familiar grasp of her mother's hand as Fiona intertwined her fingers within her daughter's, raising Cordelia's hand to Fiona's chest; a gesture that was intended to comfort her, but only created more pain for Cordelia. So much pain.

At the touch of her mother's flesh grazing against her own, she had seen a vision of everything she never wanted to see, things that she could have gone her entire life without knowing. At the time, she wasn't sure how she had avoided the image of her Auntie Myrtle burning at the stake for supposedly blinding Cordelia, but fortunately, she did. If she had witnessed that vision in that hospital bed, surrounded by her doctor, a nurse, and her mother... Cordelia just might have died.

The memories were flowing through Cordelia's mind as she finally discovered her voice again, though trembling, and spoke out to the stranger behind the door, who had stopped knocking, and probably walked away.

"Who is there?" Cordelia asked to no one in particular, her gaze settled on nothing, absolutely nothing. She wasn't certain of the direction she was facing, what she was gazing at, only that she was sitting on the edge of her mattress.

When Cordelia didn't receive a reply, she sighed. She was feeling a combination of emotions, but most of all, pity. She felt sorry for herself, and it was becoming a habit that was difficult to break. Her feet settled against the cool canvas of wooden panels below her, her arms outstretched as she moved forward. Her hip collided with the nightstand that was situated next to her bed, the salient corner of it stabbing into her thigh, and causing Cordelia to yelp out in pain. She'd just lost her balance and was about to land on her face when a pair of arms circled around her waist, drawing her up and pulling her against an unknown chest.

Cordelia hadn't even heard the bedroom door open, much less the footfalls of whoever was holding her, but panic began to race through her veins. For all she knew, she was alone, and there was an intruder in the Academy. Possibly the person who threw acid on Cordelia's face in that bathroom.

Her own thoughts urging her on, Cordelia fought against the embrace that encompassed her midriff, her elbows jabbing into the abdomen of her attacker. She struggled to release herself from the grip, unable to see, her blood pulsing so hard in her head, it was difficult to breathe-but finally, she ran. She ran like hell, right into a wall. She could hear the groans of her assailant. A feminine groan, then followed by the familiar voice of her mother as she cursed at Cordelia.

Cordelia blanched.  _Had her mother been watching her the entire time, studying her?_  For a moment, Cordelia was bothered by this, then... not so much. She drew comfort from it, comfort that she didn't want, comfort that she wasn't looking for.

If there was anything that she didn't want right now, it was a relationship with Fiona. She had gone so long without it, and she was convinced that she was better off on her own without Fiona. Now that Misty had brought back Myrtle, she was surrounded by everyone that she needed-Fiona not included.

"Are you insane?!" Cordelia spat, fighting to catch her breath, adrenaline still coursing through her veins.

"You can't just sneak up on me like that! Some of us are blind in this house!" Cordelia's head was hurting, a perpetual ache that wouldn't seem to go away, but she was somewhat relieved that she was in the company of the woman that had given birth to her. She was safe. But that may have been an understatement.

"I... I'm sorry. I only wanted to help, honey." Fiona's voice trembled as she spoke. She stepped forward, her arm outstretching, the pads of her wrinkled fingers tracing along Cordelia's burned cheek.

"I was afraid you might hurt yourself," she said. Fiona's gaze was fixated on Cordelia's face. Even disfigured, burned, and soon to be scarred, Cordelia was still beautiful. Cordelia would always be beautiful, in Fiona's eyes.

"Were you watching me?" Cordelia's question hung in the air between them. She wasn't sure if she was even looking at her mother, but this was something that she needed to know, for some reason. She wanted to know.

"...Yes." Fiona spoke with hesitation, and stepped back, as if she feared Cordelia's reaction.

"Why? You never cared enough before. Now that I'm blind... disabled... you want to help? I don't need your charity, nor do I want it, so get out," Cordelia said. She was being unnecessarily harsh and she knew it, but it felt good. It felt good to inflict pain on the woman that had given her up, to give her a taste of her own medicine.

"You never loved me before, and you don't love me now. You were too worried about the men you brought into our house and the sex that they could give you!" Cordelia was growing increasingly frustrated, and was nearing an explosion, but Fiona's confession halted her, and confused the hell out of her.

"I never loved you?" Fiona genuinely sounded hurt. It was times like this that Cordelia wished she could see.

"I always loved you, honey. I always will. I wasn't a mother to you when you were young. Hell, I wasn't even a mother when you reached adulthood. But I want to love you now, I want to be here. I don't expect forgiveness... but I'd like to know my daughter," Fiona continued on, tears cascading down her cheeks. She sniffled, using the back of her hand to wipe the moisture away.

"One day, maybe you'll be able to believe that," Fiona said.

As Cordelia heard her mother walking away, she realized that she wasn't wearing her heels. _Fiona always wore her heels..._

_Fiona had been there all night._

Cordelia had hurt the one person who had given up sleep for her, the person that refused to leave her side at the hospital, the person that helped her take showers and get dressed every day. Fiona may not have been the best mother, but she was trying. She shouldn't have felt bad about it, but she did. Unlike her mother, she felt compassion. And most days, compassion hurt like hell.

Cordelia's heart dropped to her stomach, and she cried. She cried so hard.

 


End file.
